Wonder When You'll Miss Me
by Tate Langdon Fangirl
Summary: Violet hadn't spoken to him in ten years and they're working on fixing things, but her jealously starts to irritate him when the new family moves in. Would Tate leave Violet? Was that the reason she was jealous? Maybe he shouldn't get so close to living people. [WIP started 3-25-13]
1. I'm Sorry

Tate woke up feeling slightly off. Today marked the tenth consecutive year that Violet had managed to fully ignore him and pretend he didn't exist. He officially felt like shit. He hadn't killed, lied, or even moved from the basement since the day she told him to go away. He hadn't spoken since then either. Tate was constantly in a state of heart breaking depression, but he knew things moved on without him anyway. The new owners of the house were moving in today and each ghost would try to scare them away in their own way, but Tate had a feeling about these owners. They weren't going to move out no matter what, and he knew it. There was something different about these people. They weren't ignorant like the rest, they actually had a sense of what was going on and that would help them in this place.

Mrs. Deveraux, the new home owner, had a large family. She was a psychologist like Ben, and planned to use the home office for her practice just as Ben had. The woman had told Marcy that she was moving as a way to leave her bad experiences behind, whatever that meant. She had two daughters: Ollianawna and Delain. Delain was the eldest and kept to herself, whereas Ollianawna was still in highs school and fit the profile of the average teenage girl. After hearing Ollianawna's name for the first time, Tate thought the woman might've lost it. Naming a kid something that odd had to mean something was wrong with the mother. Maybe Tate would socialize with the new family and try to do something with his endless hell. Delain didn't seem so bad. She was just a little misunderstood.

"Tate!" he heard Hayden call, though he didn't move from the floor. "Tate! Get your lazy butt off the floor and come help me set up to scare these people away."

"Why?" he growled. "So they can just pawn it off to someone else and have the house destroyed? I don't think so. Why can't we just leave them alone and go to sleep?"

Hayden glared at him. "What's wrong, Tate? Still pissed that Violet doesn't want you anymore?"

"Hayden, go away." Tate yelled. He sighed, rolling over onto the blankets. He could sleep this eternity away and it still wouldn't stop the pain. He couldn't commit suicide, because he was already dead.

"Being in this house sucks." Tate whispered. "I just want to die all over again."

"Me too," said a voice behind Tate.

Hearing her voice after ten years wasn't the same. Maybe five years ago he would've felt something, but right now he felt angry. "Why are _you _here?"

Violet gave him an incredulous look. "What do you mean? I can't talk to you now?"

"You haven't spoken a word to me in over ten years," he whispered. "You don't care, so why pretend like you do?"

Violet cringed at the emptiness in his voice, and suddenly hated herself as much as he hated her.

"I'm sorry," she said, tears forming in her eyes.

"Sometimes 'sorry' isn't enough, or did you forget that?" he snapped.

Violet glared at him. "Look, I know I shouldn't have done what I did but you can't do this to yourself Tate."

"I haven't killed anyone in ten years, nor have I left this spot. So maybe you should just go away."

"Is that what you want right now?"

"Yes," snapped Tate. "I would love it for you to just go away right now. In fact, I wish we never even met."

Violet shot a disgusted look in his direction. "Then why haven't you forced me away yet?"

Tate sighed. "I still love you, but we're both hurt. I don't think this is a good idea. Not today."

"If it makes you happy, Tate, I'll leave." Violet said. "I'll just go away right now, or we can cuddle like we used to and get over ourselves."

"I like both of those ideas a lot." Tate said as he opened his mass of blankets for her.

Violet smiled, and climbed in next to him. "I missed this, Tate."

"Your dad is going to kill me." Tate mumbled.

"No he's not," laughed Violet. "He wouldn't do that."

"Yes," said Tate. "He will, because now he actually can."


	2. Understanding You

"Violet?" whispered Tate. He'd only just woken up and the memories of the previous day flooded his mind. He'd gone to sleep with Violet in his arms and, surprisingly, he'd woken to her as well. She stirred and cuddled closer to him, but she didn't wake quite yet. Tate groaned. This wasn't how he wanted her to come back to him. He'd made a plan to buy flowers, maybe leave them in her favorite spot with a note for her to find. He hadn't planned for her to actually care about him still. Why did she come back so soon? Was she planning to play with his feelings as revenge? He wouldn't put it past her. Women tended to do things like that, whether it was intentional or not.

"Violet!" he said loudly. "Wake up."

She rolled onto her back and rubbed her eyes. "What? I was sleeping."

"I know," whispered Tate. "We need to talk, Violet."

"No," she mumbled. "That's never a good thing, Tate. Those words mean trouble."

"They do, but we _need _to talk."

"What about?" said Violet, as she propped herself on her elbows.

"Why are you here?" Tate asked, with a blank face. "Why did you come here last night?"

Violet didn't say anything at first. She only stared at him for a while, which actually made him quite uncomfortable.

"I missed you," she explained. "I'm not mad anymore. We're going to be here forever, and I figured I had to forgive you at some point. I talked to Constance, and she said the house drove you insane. I didn't completely believe her at first, but the more I reviewed everything in my head the more it made sense. You'll always have psychological issues because of Constance, but this house changes people. I think I know what evil controls this house, too."

"What do you mean?" asked Tate, moving to hold Violet's hand. "You've figured it out?"

"After ten years, yes I have." Violet smiled. "I think it's Nora and Charles."

"Nora and Charles? What've you got against Nora?" said Tate. "There's nothing wrong with Nora."

"No, Tate," she laughed. "Nora and Charles's baby is evil."

"Thaddeus?" asked Tate in confusion. "Thad hasn't done anything lately, none of us have."

"I know," she began. "But I think Thaddeus is the evil that surrounds this house. When Charles brought Thaddeus back, it was against the laws of nature. He created something ungodly, and that wasn't right. Thaddeus grew old here, and died in the basement where he'd stayed after Nora and Charles died. That's why he looks the way he does. He looks like an old woman with a shark mouth, but that's because of the mutations that Charles created. I personally feel bad for Nora. She may not have been the perfect mother, but she loved Thaddeus and she wanted a burial for him. The proper way. A burial she never got."

Tate didn't know what to say to that. Honestly, he felt the same way. Thaddeus was an abomination and as much as Tate liked the little creature, he knew that Violet was right. Thaddeus was the start of everything, and no one knew how to stop the evil. They were all finally ready to leave the new family alone this time. As he sat and played with Violet's hair, he thought of all Nora had done for him over the years. She'd been a mother to him whereas Constance was obsessed with perfection. Nora protected him from Thaddeus when he was younger and he didn't really understand until now. When Thaddeus scratched him, a part of him stayed inside Tate. Part of him was evil, and he knew it as well as she did. So why did she stick around? She couldn't care about him that much. It'd been ten full years, and he knew part of her still hated him. Why was she lying to him?

"Just go back to sleep, Tate." Violet whispered, as she once again curled up next to him.

"I can't," he said. "My mind's too busy right now."

"Mine too," she grinned. "But Tate, I want you to see Doctor Devereaux like you saw my dad. You said it helped. Please, do it for me?"

"Tomorrow, I promise I will," said Tate, before he wrapped an arm around her and finally fell asleep.


	3. Meet Mrs Deveraux

Delain woke up to Ollianawna playing Pink Floyd as loud as possible. One of these days Delain would kill herself from this crap. She didn't know how much longer she could deal with her family. Ollianawna was only fifteen and she was the biggest social idiot when it came to school. Her mother originally wanted both of them to live with their dad, but they wouldn't listen. As far as Delain knew, her sister would be moving in with their dad soon and she wouldn't have to deal with that little bitch. Sighing, Delain rolled over and drew the covers over her head. She wasn't fully ready to wake up.

"Delain!" her mother yelled. "Delain! Get your butt down here. It's almost time to drop your sister off at school."

"Why do I have to go?" she yelled back.

"Don't you want to see your sister off to her first day?"

Delain looked over to the doorway and saw her mother and younger sister standing in the doorway. Ollianawna looked ready for school and her mother looked ready to see another patient. She, however, looked like a mess. Her hair was bunched up and tangled, her shirt was slightly handing off her shoulder, and her makeup had smeared in her sleep.

"Ah, I can see why you're not ready." Mrs. Deveraux said with look of disappointment.

"Don't give me that face, mom," Delain laughed. "I'll go next week. Monday. I promise."

"You'd do well to remember your promises, Delain." Ollianawna glared.

"I know, now just leave. I'm not in the mood to deal with either of you."

"Fine."

Delain knew it was a bad idea to make promises, especially when no one in her family seemed to keep them. She'd make up for it later when her sister got home. Maybe make her dinner, and pamper her until she forgot about it. Promises were a big deal with her little sister, for whatever reason. She didn't see it as a big deal, but Ollianawna did.

She was about to go back to bed when she heard the doorbell ring. Her mother must've had a patient come early. Delain groaned loudly and rolled out of bed, fully prepared to tell whoever it was that they needed to fuck off. When she answered the door, she saw a boy who looked to be her age. He was tall and had bright, blonde hair.

"Can I help you?" she said sleepily.

"Oh, I'm looking for Doctor Deveraux?" he grinned. "I guess I have the wrong address. Thanks anyway."

He was about to leave when Delain realized she should say something.

"Wait," she said, rubbing her eyes. "This is her house. I mean she's not here right now, but you can hang out until she gets back."

"Thanks, but who are you?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm her daughter," she explained. "My name is Delain. Like I said, you're welcome to come in."

He nodded and awkwardly stepped past her through the open door.

"So," she said. "What's your name?"

The boy laughed. "Ah, it's Tate. Tate Langdon."

"That's a funny name," she chuckled. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make fun of it, but it's not all that common."

"Yeah," said Tate, though he looked a little uncomfortable. "So, do you go to school?"

"Ah, no," she said, pushing back a strand of hair. "I graduated last year, but I haven't chosen a college yet. What about you? You look about sixteen maybe seventeen."

Tate laughed and leaned against the counter. "I graduated last year as well."

"Then why are you seeing my mom?"

"I can't tell you that." He said, awkwardly shifting on his heels. "It's kind of personal."

"Well, she should be back in about five minutes. She drove my sister to school."

"You have a sister?"

Delain made a face and tried not to laugh. "Yeah, her name is Ollianawna. She's fifteen."

Tate looked at her like she was crazy. "Excuse me, but what? Her name is Olliananawa?"

"No," she laughed. "Ah-Lee-An-Au-Nuh."

"I'm not even going to attempt to say that."

"Yeah," she smirked. "I told mom she was a nutjob."

"_What _about me, Delain?" said a voice from the doorway. "Oh, hello Tate."

"Hi, Mrs. Deveraux," Tate smiled. "Sorry I'm a bit early, my mom had some _business_ to attend to."

Mrs. Deveraux's eyebrows shot up. "You wanna talk about it? It's almost time for our session."

Tate thought about what he'd promised Violet. He said he'd try talking to the therapist, and actually try to make it work. He had to do this, and there was no other way than to lie yet again to a family he didn't know.

"Yeah, actually,"

"Wonderful," she said over-enthusiastically. "Well, let me go set my things down and you can join me in my study in just a minute."

"Of course," Tate grinned. "Whenever you're ready, that is. Let me tell you, this story is a long one."

"Well then," Mrs. Deveraux sighed. "Delain, how about you fetch Tate a glass of water?"  
"Mom!" Delain growled through clenched teeth. "I'm not a dog."

"Yes, of course. Darling, show Tate to my office."

Delain pinched the bridge of her nose and leaned against the kitchen counter. Her mother was a complete psycho and she couldn't stand it. Even worse, Ollianawna would probably get bullied today because of her stupid name all because their mother couldn't keep her head on straight. She felt like _she_ should be the one getting therapy, not giving it. Neither Delain nor her sister believed their mother was completely sane lately.


	4. First Appointment

"So Tate," said Doctor Deveraux. "Your mother expressed her concern about you."

"Has she?" he laughed, picking at the holes in his jeans. "I don't see why she's _concerned_. She's a horrible mother."

"Do you find it hard to relate to your mother?"

"Extremely so," Tate chuckled. "She's a slut, and no one loves her."

Mrs. Deveraux tilted her head to the side, studying him. "You know, Tate, I find a lot of boys your age resent their mother. I get that it's hard having a mother who, uh, dates a lot. It might seem like she's never around, but I guarantee she loves you—"

Though he tried hard to listen to her, Tate couldn't contain his laughter any longer. This woman had obviously not spent two minutes in his mother's presence or she'd have realized what a bitch Constance really was. She was a pathetic woman, and even Violet knew that.

"Are you taking any of this seriously?" she sighed, setting her clipboard down. "You're not going to get better if you don't try."

Tate, having finally settled down, shook his head. "I'm sorry, but the only person my mother loves is herself."

"Did she tell you that?"

"No,"

"Then how could you assume it's true?"

"She murdered my brother," said Tate seriously. "She paid off her old dick-toy to kill him, and then lied to the police about Beau dying of _natural causes._ She also gave up my fraternal twin sister at birth because the doctor said she had cancer, and Constance couldn't handle _another_ child who wasn't perfect. That _woman_ only cares about beauty; although she is the ugliest woman I have ever had the misfortune of meeting."

"Tate, if what you've told me is true I'll have to report it to the police." Mrs. Deveraux said. "She won't get away with it for long if she's been mistreating you or your siblings."

"She'll always get away with it," he laughed. "The woman has avoided her faults for decades. I'm surprised she hasn't died yet. I hope she does, though. I really do."

"That's an awful thing to say about your mother."

"She's an awful person."

Mrs. Deveraux seemed to be thinking for some time. She only stared at Tate's shoes until her phone went off.

"Excuse me one moment," she said, smiling awkwardly at Tate.

He could partially hear her conversation through the door, not that he meant to, but it seemed that Mr. Deveraux picked her daughter up from school and moved her into his home sooner than they'd planned on and Mrs. Deveraux wasn't happy with him. Slightly uncomfortable, Tate looked around and decided he'd go find Delain for the time being. He promised Violet to be a better person, and he was going to.

* * *

"Whoever it is, go away!" yelled Delain, trying to drown out the knocking on her bedroom door. "Ollianawna, knock it off!"

She had a short temper and she knew that, but everything irritated her lately. Delain got up and went to answer the door, completely ready to yell at her younger sister. To say she was surprised when she opened the door would be an understatement. Tate stood at her door wearing a plain black t-shirt, a pair of blue ripped skinny jeans, and his awkward one-dimple smile.

Only then did she realize how underdressed she was. Delain looked like she'd just rolled out of bed.

"Oh, sorry," she blushed. "I thought you were my sister trying to annoy me again."

"Definitely not," he laughed. "I'd like to think my given name is a little less ridiculous than your sister's."

"Ah, yeah," Delain laughed. "What are you doing up here? You're supposed to be in session with my mother."

"I think she's having family issues." Tate itched his ear and looked at the ground, thinking of how to bring the subject about. "Can I come in?"

She nodded, opening the door enough for him to fit through. Once he was inside, Tate observed the room. Delain had gotten Violet's old room. His old room. She painted the walls black and left a single white rose design just above the headboard on her bed – which was also black. It seemed this girl was unlike the rest of her gender. Where most girls preferred pink and orange, Delain preferred no specific color but the darkest of blacks. He liked that, he found something brilliant in that. The room also held many stacks of paintings, CDs, papers, notebooks, and a single large dresser holding her personal belongings.

"It's nice," Tate said, trying to be polite. "It's got character."

"You don't have to lie," Delain smiled. "It looks like shit, because I have yet to add my paintings to the room."

"Add them?"

"I'm going to paint them all into one design on this wall," Delain pointed at the wall behind her bed where the single white rose was. "Eventually. I hope."

"What do you mean?"

"I have arthritis." She said, looking sadly at her stack of paintings. "It runs in the family and I just got it early on."

"I'm sorry," he said, looking at the stack of paintings as well. "I never got to follow my dream either."

"Which was?"

"I wanted to meet Kurt Cobain, and maybe tour with him."

"That's not such a silly idea, you know," she laughed. "Enough people get into the music business, and you're in the right town for that."

"Yeah, but you can't be famous when you fall in love," Tate sighed, thinking of all he'd done in his life. "She's special, and I'm changing my life for her."

"I think that's romantic," Delain said, moving to sit on the floor next to her bed. "How long have you two been together?"

Tate knew he couldn't be honest about that answer and that sucked, because she seemed friendly enough and he only hoped the house wouldn't have an effect on their family.

"Since we were little," he smiled. "About ten years, maybe more."


End file.
